I know y’all. There is just so much wrong with that. But seriously.
Six or so years ago my doctor told me the pain in my head that makes me cry and never want to get out of bed were migraines. I gave him the look. Migraines are what people say they have when they want to miss work once a month. They aren’t even real.
Trust me. He said. Try this medicine he said.
It worked. Those little magic pills knocked me out and (usually) I woke up not feeling like someone had beat the inside of my skull with a hammer. Sometimes it takes a couple of doses, but they eventually work.
P.S. Before this, I totally judged people who called in sick with a migraine. Feel free to kick me next time you see me. But not hard.
Anyway. I used to get them every other month. Now. It’s 2-3 times a year at the most.
None of this even matters. But you’ll eventually realize why I’m rambling. Or not.
So you know how work has been crazy. And the relaxing three day weekend you have looked forward to gets here. And there’s no relaxing.
Until Monday. When your husband leaves to go camping so you sleep in instead of getting up and mowing the yard. And by noon or so you start to get that headache that possibly could turn in to a migraine but ain’t nobody got time for that so you take some Motrin?
So I take the Motrin. Leave all the lights in the house off. Turn the air down. Lay on the couch waiting for the Motrin to work, in between trying to help Alex make her second cake of the day because she got up at
dawn 10am to bake a cake but didn’t leave it in long enough and it was. Well. Inedible.
And I get this text asking what I’m doing. I think about answering. And the doorbell rings. It’s like 1:00. On a holiday Monday. And it’s the person who texted me. And the girls answer the door.
If this confuses you, read this: Fav Five Fridays…Introvert Special | lifewithgreeneyes
I was most likely rude. I got up for about a minute. Didn’t encourage conversation. I did at least make the girls move their blankets so they could sit down. I didn’t offer my couch though. I have my limits. I probably owe them an apology. I’ll work on that.
So they didn’t stay long. The Motrin was not working. So after feeding the girls I took the real stuff and laid on the couch, waiting for the girls to fall asleep so I could go to bed.
Apparently I got to bed. I don’t really remember anything except for some reason I was watching Undercover Boss on repeat. And Buddy was laying across my side of the bed.
Sorry Buddy. Love ya dude but um. Getouttamyspace
At some point I woke up and decided I needed another dose and that there was no way I was working today. So I emailed my boss, took some meds, got the girls up and out the door and fell out.
For like two hours. Because my phone rang. And really if it had been anyone but one of my bestie’s I would not have slid that bar. But I figured if she was calling it was important. Like when she texted me Monday and woke me up. Because holiday Mondays do not mean we don’t work. And it was important. So I think I went back to sleep.
I don’t even know if she called me or texted me the second time. But I think she called. So I dragged myself out of bed on to the couch, opened up my laptop and went to work.
It’s a hard life. I know. But seriously. I can’t even call in sick because >> laptop. So. We’re even.
We worked on the
mess situation all day. I think we finished about 5:45.
During this time, I fed the girls (see MOTY < right here), and prayed Savannah would forget she had soccer practice tonight.
I had it made y’all. It was 5:58. Practice is at 6:30. I was in the home stretch.
Until she walked out in a panic, Mom, I have soccer practice in 30 minutes!!!!
Y’all. I fed them. Got them up for school. Worked semi-coherently. Driving to soccer practice is asking a little much at this point.
So, in typical MOTY fashion, I said You know honey, we could skip tonight.
Yes. I. Did.
She was having none of that. My friend suggested I let her drive herself. Except. Well. She can’t even put her own soccer socks on. Have y’all noticed how hard those things are getting to put on your kids after they’re like, idk, 5? Craziness!!!
So I told her I’d take her but I couldn’t stay. I would have to come back and pick her up. If you haven’t started judging yet, here’s your sign.
We’re walking outside and she looked so cute I needed a picture. So she stands in front of our flowerbed that
needs to be set on fire may need a little weeding. That wasn’t going to work.
So we move to the front door where my flip flop door mat and SpringturnedsummerbecauseIneverchangedit pretty S door hanger still hangs. Whatever. I’ll get to the fall one
Which apparently reminds her that yearbook pictures are tomorrow.
Which is also trash day. And my husband is camping.
Also. I need my eye brows waxed. Like last week.
And right now. I’m helping Savannah with her
stupid common core math homework.
My brain hurts.
I just wanna watch Rizzoli and Isles and fall asleep.
Also. Anyone wanna come get my girls ready in the morning?
Never mind. I haven’t mowed the yard or vacuumed.
There’s a slight possibility I may need to clean the kitchen as well.
I’m going to go ahead and say we aren’t buying yearbook pictures this year.
I think I remember telling her I’d braid her hair. I’m not betting on that happening.
Y’all pray for these girls. They just asked for cinnamon rolls for breakfast.
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